Dark Refuge
by FenZev
Summary: A glimpse into Fenris' mind, as told by Fenris; expect brooding. One-shot.


A soft whistle stirs in the air – it is only the wind finding its way through the cracks in the stone. The mansion is eerily quiet otherwise, but it is that way on most days. You would not know anyone occupies this space except for the random patterns of bare feet that break up the layers of dust on the granite floor.

Those are mine.

It has been this way for years, the mansion. Blanketed in dark blue when the moon shines through the windows, pale yellow as the sun encompasses the sky. But the silence – that is what keeps me here. If I concentrate hard enough, I can forget the echoes of their screams - the former slaves, the Fog Warriors, the countless others that have lost their lives by my hands.

The mansion resembles the place I retreated to in my mind when my former master performed unspeakable acts upon my flesh. It was a dark, quiet refuge I created – perhaps that is why I remain. I have always found comfort there, here, in the darkness, in the silence. It is what I know; it is all I know.

Everyone has a question for me these days. I wonder if they realize what thoughts they are provoking when they ask such things? It is as if they have never known a slave before, and now that I have accompanied them on a few tasks, they have some right to invade my privacy, my thoughts, my inner demons.

_Did you ever think about killing yourself?_

I had. I did. Many times within any given night while I was beaten, tortured, raped for the satisfaction of a twisted, demented blood mage. What being in their right mind would not dream of a way out, an escape, and end to the suffering they endure. Tell me, would you?

_Are you safe, Fenris?_

No. They can see what I am, they know what I have done, what I am capable of. They fear, yet pretend to care. They know nothing. Am I safe? From myself? From others? What kind of question is this to ask? I have done things no other person is capable of, I have been subjected to acts others may never have survived. Am I safe... are you? Are any of us safe from what haunts us in the shadows of our minds?

_Does it hurt?_

How does one answer that question? Place a knife under your flesh, tear through it until you can no longer withstand the pain, and then pour hot liquid in the wound. Tell me, does that hurt? Having a substance - that in its raw form can kill in an instant - embedded into your skin... yes, it hurts.

_The chains are broken, but are you truly free?_

No, no I am not. Nor will I ever be, and they do not understand. I close my eyes and I hear the screams. I open my eyes and I can feel the pain. I feel his breath on my neck. I sense the knife at my throat. I count the heartbeats as I crush them with my fist. Who could be free from that? He is out there, watching, waiting. He has created a monster, and that monster is me. His chains bind me for eternity, whether he lives or dies.

_You've been in Kirkwall a long time. Does it feel like home?_

I have no comparison. I have said as much. But it feels… and that in itself has been a surprise. What is home? Its meaning for one is different from another. If no one can give me a clear answer as to what it is, how do I know if it feels like it should?

_I'm sorry. I can't imagine how difficult your life has been._

Can anyone truly understand another? No. Do not bother trying. They say I brood. Do you blame me? It is not without cause. I see none of them attempting to deter me though. They allow me to relish in my misery, content to ask their questions and then go about their lives, and when I retreat back to the mansion, they forget I exist.

Except for her.

She visits me in this dark place, whether my mood would approve her presence or not. She is not unlike me: burdened with haunting images that plague her very soul. And yet Hawke does not brood. She radiates warmth, compassion, and healing, though she is no mage. When she thinks no one is looking, the sadness darkens her hazel eyes.

I am always looking.

Hawke enters the mansion, and suddenly it is not silent anymore, and not so dark. She calls my name when she arrives, and waits until I reach the banister to greet her. I asked her once why she always waited for me before continuing further, and she said she did not wish to frighten me.

I often wonder if she is scared _of _me instead of _for_ me.

Her long blond hair is a noticeable contrast against the grime-encrusted walls. The end of her curls rest just above her breast when she styles it to fall off her shoulders; I assume she does this on purpose to draw attention to her chest.

It works.

Her visits are always pleasant. Her questions are not a probing of morbid curiosity. They are of genuine kindness, kinship, and sometimes perhaps something more. It is a battle I wage within myself when I am in her presence. She encompasses everything I desire, yet never dare to indulge in.

Hawke has dealt with my anger, accepted my half-truthed responses to her queries, and on occasion has even made me laugh. That alone is an admirable quality, for no other has been able to do so. Thoughts of her often chase away the images of Danarius, and for that I am grateful. So when curiosity gets the better of her, I do not mind responding.

_Do you intend to keep living here?_

Only after she says she is staying do I decide I could as well, for the right reasons. The thought enters my mind and I say it without hesitation. Her warm smile captures my heart, and in that moment I am sure she is the reason I remain.

_Isn't that what you want? To start over?_

I don't know how, but the fear I expected from that response does not come. I know I want nothing more than to start over, to create a new life to replace the one that was stolen from me. And it must include her. That much is certain.

_It's been several years, can you tell me how you got free?_

It is a question that shadows the room, and returns me to the dark place in which I spend most of my time. A group I had considered friends died by my hands at Danarius' request. Has anything changed? Would I still be as weak as I was then? If he ordered me to kill my companions now, would I be able to resist?

The thought of harming her becomes my new nightmare. I begin to push her away in order to save her, to save myself. I should not have remained, I should not have dared to hope for a fresh start, a new life, not with the wolf at my back.

_We're friends Fenris..._

I tell her I do not know what that means, but that is a lie. We are friends, more than friends, and that fact puts her at risk, puts them all at risk. I want to run, to flee as I have done before, but her eyes darken with that sadness I am all too familiar with, and I can not turn my back on her. Instead I jump straight into the fires of temptation, take her with a ferocious need that overcomes and overwhelms me, and she does not run.

She stays. And it is more painful than anything I have ever endured. To know she would remain by my side and yet to know I may one day take her life as I have taken all the others...

Physically I may have stayed, but emotionally I am gone. Back to the dark recesses of my mind, to the safe haven I have created for myself. I can not think clearly when she is present so I avoid her, but am unable to will myself to leave the city.

To leave home.

In the end, I am alone. I am successful in driving her away, into the arms of another. I do not know why this comes as a surprise to me, but it does. She will leave, with him, when the home she asked me to consider creating falls to pieces around us. Her parting gift was assisting in killing Danarius, so I am truly free to move forward.

But I do not know where that leads. For now I remain in the darkened fortress I created so long ago. Through everything, it has been the one constant comfort in my life.

Never will the blond curls and hazel eyes brighten it again.


End file.
